Rider Strong Shirtless Novels & Stories

Right a moment went by, he promptly arrived with his naked chest on display, he was… only in his boxers. I immediately eyed down because I was not used to this kind of heavy situations, I had no idea how to tackle everything happening at that moment. I grew up watching cartoons and RATED-13 movies, my parents were strict in this case. I had no idea how to cope up with this. I was loathed by our current awkward situation. Why is he shirtless?

Strong hands shot out and grabbed my waist, keeping me from falling, and Cassian raised an eyebrow at me when he saw the shirt in my hand. I gave him a sheepish smile and stepped backwards and — HOLY SHIT! How had I not noticed this before?! The man was shirtless! And not just shirtless. He was sweaty and breathing deeply. His hair was slicked away from his face, the ends curling slightly from the dampness, and his muscles seemed to be bulging more than normal. "Um...hey." My voice sounded hoarse and high-pitched at the same time, and I coughed, my ears hot with embarrassment. "I mean... Hi. Good morning. Um... I didn't see you there. I mean..."

He warned, before walking out and heading to the entrance. I finished work with Rider standing close. He was the only brother, beside Alex, who stayed this close to me. He was constantly looking round, trying to spot any threats. Everyone had been vetted by Holgate, he was just being precautious. It was coming up to 5pm, time to clock off. I wasn’t working late today, I had the rest of the week, because I wanted to catch up on what I had missed, but I had nothing left to do. I logged out of my computer, signaling to my boss that I was done for the day. He nodded and gave me a thumbs up. He also nodded to Rider, Rider was intimating to everyone I worked with, he was tall, around 6ft 6. He pro

His trousers were an abomination. His movements were like that of a hunter marking a room full of prey, deciding which one he wanted to feast on. It turned out that the shirt he had on, underneath his jacket, was sleeveless. Completely. The cut was high and deep, exposing not only his arms, but most of his shoulders and a tease of the sides of his chest. The top was completely covered, like a tank top with a mock turtleneck. It was both masculine and sensual at the same time, something that took great confidence for anyone to wear.

Like making sure my profile stayed pinned to her feed. Every. Damn. Time. I could imagine the flustered and annoyed look on her face as my shirtless pictures kept popping up instead of other available ‘Romeos’ who would do anything she wanted. No matter how many men she tried to look at, it’d be me. Sweaty and glistening after a swim. Me, shirtless in the gym, biceps pumped after a strength training workout. Or after finishing a marathon, sweat dripping down my chest, my shorts hanging low on my hips.

That was still to come. “God, I’ve missed this,” he whispered, his hands sliding up my thighs. “Me too,” I replied, my hands rubbing over his chest. “All of this.” I moved to the hem, pushing his shirt up his body, admiring the view. With his help, I got the shirt off, exposing the wide expanse of his broad chest. He wasn’t buff like a football player but buff like a bull rider. Strong and lean and very solid.

The suit's fabric embraced his form with precision, sculpting his frame in a way that conveyed strength and elegance in equal measure. The darkness of his attire was punctuated by a bold statement: a deep red shirt that accentuated his confidence. The top buttons of the shirt remained undone, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of his tattooed chest. The inked patterns danced across his skin, a testament to a hidden side of him that few were privy to witness. The intricate designs told stories of his past, a tapestry of experiences woven into the very fabric of his being.

"You bastard! I don’t like it, and I never will! You’re nothing but a disgusting, immoral kidnapper! A criminal, nothing more!" I tried to push against his chest with all my strength, desperate to get away, but that was a huge mistake. Somehow, I hadn’t noticed until now—Ryder was shirtless. Just wearing pants. My hands landed on his bare skin—on the hard, sculpted muscles beneath. My fingers trembled, but I couldn’t pull away. He was terrifying. I felt hypnotized as he suddenly grabbed the back of my neck, pressing rough kisses down along it. I gasped, but that wasn’t what I meant to do.

ASHLEY I have seen shirtless guys, but I haven't seen anyone like him before. I couldn't get the image out of my head no matter how much I tried. The joggers hung low on his hips, careless and effortless. I remembered the way his muscles shifted when he moved. Subtle flexes beneath warm skin, the quiet strength in his arms. His chest was toned, broad and smooth, rising and falling with slow, steady breaths. Below it, well-defined abs tightened slightly when he turned, the faint lines catching the light.

Even Ethan had a bright smile on his face, but the thing was… They were all shirtless.